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One can't be happy as I have been for very long. There's a law against it. I have worked hard and enjoyed my work and it is the punishment of man to hate his work. Sooner or later I will have work that I hate.
John Steinbeck
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John Steinbeck
Age: 66 †
Born: 1902
Born: February 27
Died: 1968
Died: December 20
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
War Correspondent
Writer
Salinas
California
John Ernst Steinbeck
Jr.
John Ernst Steinbeck
John Ernest Steinbeck
John Ernst Steinbeck Jr
Steinbeck
Men
Worked
Later
Law
Happy
Hate
Hard
Sooner
Work
Punishment
Long
Enjoyed
More quotes by John Steinbeck
[He] fell right into the oldest conviction in the world-- that the girl you are in love with can't possibly be anything but true and honest.
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And their greed was for gold or God. They collected souls as they collected jewels.
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There's nothing in the world like that first taste of beer.
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Show me the man who isn't interested in discussing himself.
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Trips to fairly unknown regions should be made twice once to make mistakes and once to correct them.
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Humanity has been passing through a gray and desolate time of confusion.
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When I was very young and the urge to be someplace was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch.
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It seems to me Montana is a great splash of grandeur. The scale is huge but not overpowering. The land is rich with grass and color, and the mountains are the kind I would create if mountains were ever put on my agenda.
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In utter loneliness a writer tries to explain the inexplicable.
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There is one thing pleasantly unconfusing about medicine. The direction and the end are fixed and the patient never works backward.
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To the heavens on the wings of a pig.
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Men don't get knocked out, or I mean they can fight back against big things. What kills them is erosion they get nudged into failure. They get slowly scared.[...]It's slow. It rots out your guts.
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Up ahead they's a thousan' lives we might live, but when it comes it'll on'y be one.
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..it's awful not to be loved. It's the worst thing in the world...It makes you mean, and violent, and cruel.
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Evening of a hot day started the little wind to moving among the leaves. The shade climbed up the hills toward the top. On the sand banks the rabbits sat as quietly as little gray, sculptured stones.
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Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there's time, the Bastard Time.
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Can you honestly love a dishonest thing?
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Three hours of writing require twenty hours of preparation. Luckily I have learned to dream about the work, which saves me some working time.
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Critics are the eunuchs of literature. They stand by in envious awe while the whole man and his partner demonstrate the art of living.
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